


#Wearenext

by ReynaBee



Category: Shefani, The Voice - US
Genre: F/M, Simply smut...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReynaBee/pseuds/ReynaBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written by request for NoDoubtBlake. A smutty fic, with no redeeming value.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#Wearenext

With a slight blush on my face, I return to my table from the bathroom, carrying my purse and phone in hand. I tug slightly on the bottom of my mini-dress, feeling suddenly shy, but press on through the crowded reception area. There's a crush of people on the expansive dance floor, grooving to the music of this ah-mazing Motown cover band, as they finish up "Heat Wave". The lead singer places the mike back in the stand before announcing: "This next set of songs, ladies and gentlemen, is what we like to call, 'The Lovers' Set', so we gonna go 'head and slow it down for you folks, starting with this one, right here."

I slide into my seat, as the opening chords of "My Girl" start playing, and make eye contact with my date, the hottest cowboy this side of the heaven. His hand slides into mine and his dimples appear as he smiles at me. "Care to dance?"

I know my returning smile is a million miles wide. Everyone loves to tell me how cheesy my grin is when I look at, talk about, or get ready to see him. Even Kelly, with her cute Texas twang was like, "Oh my gawd, y'all are so cute! I don't think I've even smiled that big at my husband, and I'm crazy for him. Why don't y'all, just go get a room, already?" It's okay, I don't mind it because I know it's true. If you were my age and you'd never really known what true love was until now, you'd smile as big as a football field, too.

"Sure," I reply and he takes my other hand, helping me stand. We never drop our gaze from each other as we walk to the dance floor; it's a wonder we make it there at all. This version of the song is super slowed down, and the soothing tenor of the singer floats through the room as this handsome gentleman pulls me close in his arms. Even with these 4 inch high stilettos on, I'm still half a foot shorter than he is, and I sink into the safety and strength of his large body. 

We've never really had a chance to slow dance like this, and I'm loving it. His thighs brush against mine and the sensation has me wrapping my arms around him even more tightly. "You having a good time tonight?" I never was into cowboys before him, but boy, his country accent does things to me. Delicious things. Sexual things.

I look up at him, spoiled by the love beaming from his blue eyes. "Yeah, you?" There goes that goofy smile again.

"Of course. I'm mean, I'm holding onto the most beautiful woman in the room." As if to illustrate his point, his hands glide from my back, down to my ass and lightly squeeze. 

I take this as a sign, and make my move, praying that the packed floor in this dimly-lit room won't allow for any onlookers to witness what I'm doing. My body begins to tingle in anticipation of his reaction, and I reach into the top of my mini-dress, and slip out the scrap of black fabric that functioned as my underwear for most of the afternoon. 

I have to swallow before I can speak. "Why don't you hold onto these for me, too, Blake?" I place the satin panties into the pocket of his formal vest. I swear, I can feel myself getting wetter as his hand follows mine into the pocket and moves around, eyebrows furrowing until he finally recognizes what I've done. His breath catches, before he utters "holy fuck" and draws me up even further against his body. 

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" His voice is rough in my ears, sending shivers through me. 

"No," as I speak into his ear, I slide my hand down from his vest, past his belt and grip the hardness just beginning to grow underneath the zipper of his pants. "I'm just trying to turn you on." And in the process, I'm spiraling as well.

He deftly latches onto my hand, returning it to its previous position around his neck. As I dance so close to him though, I can feel his erection brushing against me, just below my belly. "You're turned on too. Know how I can tell?" 

Caught up in the spell he's starting to weave around me, all I can do is shake my head 'no'. His whispered words make me feel as if I'm the only other person in the room; it's an intoxicating feeling. "I swear, I can smell how wet you are. You smell so spicy and sweet and you're making my mouth water." 

My knees weaken and it feels like someone has turned up the temperature in this place. I've been freezing my ass off all day, and now a drop of sweat falls between my breasts. How does he do this to me time after time? How did I live my whole life without this before him? How did I _live_ before him?

"Blake," my eyes lock onto his, "please." I can't take much more of his sensual teasing. I'm barely holding on to the rhythm of the new song the band is playing. It's so perfect for this moment too: Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On" 

"'Please', what? Whatever you want, it's yours, baby." He licks his lips and I can't help but want to taste them for myself. My fingers make their way into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp along the way. He loves it when I use my nails on him. He meets me halfway, our mouths finding one another in the middle. With his lips on mine, his tongue teases the sensitive flesh just inside my mouth, before reaching out to explore further, The kiss is slow and erotic, holding promise of more to come, if we can ever make it out of this wedding reception. 

"Let's go...please? You're making me crazy." My words come out in a rush against his lips, in between sustained kisses that leave me gasping for air.

"Whatever you want, baby." In a flash, we turn from the dance floor, and head back to the table, him leading the way with our fingers interlaced. 

I grab my purse and phone while he's pulling his suit jacket on. We probably look obvious as we scramble to get our things together, but at this point I don't care. Kelly looks knowingly at me and beckons me to lean down as she sits. "Finally getting that room, huh?" She laughs hysterically at her own joke, and I can only reply with a smile and a wave, as Blake wraps his arm around me, and we head off to escape out the nearest door.

 

The door to the huge touring bus shuts behind us, taking the minimal light of the outside with it. Before my eyes can even adjust, I hear Blake's voice, low and hot in my ear behind me. "Take this off."

He's grabbing onto the net overlay under my short jacket. I pull both items off, tossing them onto the seats at the front of the bus. This leaves me in the sleeveless black mini that hugs onto me much like Blake's caress. He wraps one arm around me, pulling me into his body as we make our way, slowly, to the back of the bus. As we walk, I can feel his length against my back, against my ass, and my vaginal walls clench with expectation. 

We stop walking midway through the bus, and I can tell from the chrome that gleams off the scant light available, that we are in the kitchen area. Blake takes his suit jacket off, spreading it on the elongated table that's hitting me in my back. I have no chance to say anything, as his mouth finds mine in a hungry kiss, and his hands stroke upwards on the backs of my thighs. Greedy for his touch, I open my stance, spreading my legs to give his fingers easy access. They reach the juncture of my thighs and a finger finally slides home, into the sticky wetness that his presence has created.

"Fuck, you're wet!" His voice has a tinge of pride in it, but I can't do anything but focus on breathing. In and out. One long finger is stroking inside of me, and the moisture he finds there creates a noisy suction. In and out. He uses his thumb to simultaneously circle my clit, and as he presses lightly, the moan I've been holding onto escapes into the quiet bus. 

Backing me into the table behind me, he guides me to sit, before pushing on my shoulders. I lie down on the warmth provided by his jacket, sliding upwards as much as possible, wanting to plant my feet on the table. More than I can see him, I feel him kneeling down in front of me. Like magic, my knees drop open, exposing myself for his pleasure. But mostly for mine.

His nose travels up my inner thigh, his tongue darting out here and there along the way. He speaks more to himself than to me, "Your pussy makes me so weak." He hasn't even really touched me, but I can feel tremors deep inside my body, and I war with them for control. That is until his tongue slides into me, parting my pussy lips and sweeping up over the sensitive flesh there. 

"Oh god." His tongue feels like it wraps itself around my clit. It's so tiny, but he manages to find it every time. The undulating motion of his tongue against me there makes the internal tremors break loose. My whole body vibrates against his mouth. His arms slide underneath my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the table. My legs dangle over the end as he literally feasts on me. I never knew a guy could love going down on me like that, but this one does. "Blake..." My voice breaks on his name, and I wish I could open my eyes and watch him as he makes love to me with his mouth, but I can't. It's too much for me to handle.

He stands suddenly, and in record speed has divulged of his vest, shirt and tie, and is pulling his pants and underwear down and off. I maneuver my arm to reach out for his erection; it's long and thick in my hand, the mushroom head smooth under my fingers. Slowly, I use the grip that he likes to stroke him. My nails lightly graze his shaft as I pull, and his hands grab my thighs, opening them once more. Long, sure fingers sweep through my wetness in one moment, then in the next, my arms are being pinned down by my side.

"Say it." He leans over me, his huge frame covering me as he kisses my chest before moving up to my neck. I feel the tip of his dick poking in between my wet pussy lips and I grow desperate to feel him in me. "Gwen, say it."

"Fuck me," I'm so desperate for him, "please Blake."

In one long, smooth stroke, he slides in, all the way, the head of his penis bottoming out inside of me. My back arches as he hits that one spot that I never even knew existed, until his long fingers found it one lazy Sunday when we refused to get out of bed. But this isn't a night of gentle lovemaking; I asked him to fuck me and I meant it. 

His dick slides almost completely out of me before slamming into me once more. My cry comes as the most exquisite pleasure radiates through me. He's buried inside of me, hips moving back and forth, the root of his dick rubbing my clit, and his tip stimulating my G spot at the same time. I struggle to catch my breath before he surprises me by picking me up.

My tiny dress rides even further up my body as Blake holds me by the waist, moving me back and forth across his erection. In this position, my clit receives constant attention, and it's all I can do to hold onto him. My legs shake from the stimulation and my body becomes as limp as a cooked noodle. All at once, I become aware of everything: my increasing wetness that eases his penetration, his breathing, ragged and rapid in my ears, my nipples grazing his body underneath my dress, the complete feeling of fullness and pleasure that his dick stroking me provides. The onslaught of sensation is my tipping point. Before I can do much more than cry out his name and dig my nails into his arms, I am coming all over him.

His release soon follows, his hot seed shooting into me. I cradle his head to me as he cries out, waiting until his tremors stop before I quiet him with a kiss. He drops us down to a seat behind him, our bodies barely connected by his now waning erection. His hands rise to my face, holding me tenderly there as his kiss reveals to me the depth of his love. 

"I love you so much and you make me so crazy, y'know that? It's probably only 6:30 or so. We gotta go back into that wedding reception soon." Our eyes have adjusted to the dark by now, and I want to stay here - his gorgeous face is all I want to see.

"Do we?" I'm so busy kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth; I don't care if we never go back in. 

"Yeah." Voice full of regret, he sighs. "We haven't said goodbye to anybody, most importantly Amanda or Craig."

Shit. He's right. "Wow. We're so rude." And we're going to miss out on the most important part of the reception, now that I think about it.

"As much as I'd rather sit right here..." He seems to be warming up to that idea, just as I'm cooling off on it. 

"Me too, but I don't wanna miss the bouquet toss." I jump up, reaching in the dark for his vest so I can find my panties. "I need to know if I'm next."

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot was written in about 3 hours by request, so please excuse any mistakes you might find. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Title provided by HotlineBling who came up with the hashtag on Twitter in response to the bouquet pictures.


End file.
